


Dusted

by thebearking



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff and Crack, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Inappropriate Humor, Mild Sexual Content, Mutant Reader, Non-Consensual Drug Use, POV Wade Wilson, Pining, Protective Wade Wilson, Pyrokinetic Reader, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 15:09:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15075818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebearking/pseuds/thebearking
Summary: You get blasted in the face with a powerful aphrodisiac, leaving Wade to fend off all your fiery advances.





	Dusted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thesinbin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesinbin/gifts).



> lmao i've had this scenario in my head for the longest. feels good to finally write it out. big thank you to thesinbin for helping me out with this one!! in this one, the reader (fem) and wade are mercenaries who partner up a lot. kudos to you if you catch my nightshade reference ;) enjoy!

Wade liked working with you. It meant he got to spend even more time with you. It meant he got to see you in your element, kicking ass and taking names. You always looked hot (literally and figuratively) when you were tossing bad guys around like ragdolls. Even though you couldn’t fly, you put the Human Torch to shame. Watching you fight was always a treat for the eyes.

And so was following you through underground tunnels, a venture which offered him a lovely view of your ass. Even in low lighting, crawling on all fours highlighted some of the curves Wade rarely got to watch so closely.

“Ya know,” Wade grunted, narrowly avoiding placing his hand in a puddle, “this isn’t so bad. Ass to mouth. Like a sexy human centipede.”

“I will sew your mouth shut.”

“Ha! You don’t know how to sew.”

“You’re right.” You stopped, frowning at him over your shoulder. “So it’ll hurt like hell.”

Wade pouted, and the two of you kept on crawling in silence. Unfortunately, his thoughts were loud as ever when your hips were swinging in front of his face. He tried looking everywhere else but you.

Finally, the two of you reached some sort of trapdoor, one which—according to your client—led to the humble abode of your mark. The tunnel lit up as you forced the door open, diving to the floor in a neat somersault. You landed on your feet. Wade wiggled out and fell to the floor in a heap after you.

You stretched, smirking as he hauled himself to his feet. “Nice landing.”

“You can thank my cat-like reflexes for that one.” Wade cracked his back, his neck, and each of his knuckles. “Let’s get to it.”

Your mark went by the name of Nightshade. According to your client, she operated under the guise of a simple holistic doctor and had helped out some pretty gnarly crime bosses in the past, providing all kinds of herbal enhancements. Some were truly medicinal; others verged on deadly. Most recently, she’d relocated to an island in the Caribbean and treated a rival boss’s men with a concoction that left them just short of invincible. After your client’s weapon-smuggling business had been delayed by a run-in with these goons, you and Wade had been enlisted to take Nightshade down. You were instructed not to kill her, but to issue a warning that would scare her into submission.

Wade would leave the intimidation part to you. He was just there to help you destroy the shop and all of Nightshade’s stores.

“Hey,” Wade called to you, sifting through some dark glass bottles. He held up a jar of fluid with something small and shriveled floating in it. “Think this’ll make me hung like a moose?”

You arched your brow and looked him up and down pointedly. “So you’re saying you’re not already?”

Wade released a low whistle. “Dirty girl. Start smashing, hot stuff.”

With that, you and Wade commenced the destruction of Nightshade’s shop. The tunnel had led to the storage room, so without further ado, Wade started kicking things over, slicing jars open with his katanas, while you headed out to the front of the shop. He watched as you hopped neatly over the counter, threatening a person he could not see. He could imagine how fearsome—and sexy—you looked.

When he’d finished up with the storage room, he went out to meet you, glancing over at the counter, where you had Nightshade pinned against the shelves. She regarded you in mixed horror and fury, looking downright murderous, especially when she saw Wade. He imagined she’d heard the sound of shattered bottles and broken shelves. He would let you handle that while he smashed the rest of the shop to ruins.

He had nearly completed his job when he saw a pouch of something labeled “Muira Puama.” He read the description under the label and laughed, turning around to show you. “Hey, Y/N, I found the ‘hung-like-a-moose’ stuff. Think I should take it—”

Nightshade stepped on your foot. _Hard_. With a five-inch stiletto heel. And then she opened her palm and blew a bright copper powder into your face. You fell back into the counter, coughing and sputtering, while Nightshade made her getaway, aiming a pistol at Wade as she dashed out of the shop with her bag in hand.

Wade ran, but not toward Nightshade: toward you. You were doubled over, coughing your lungs out onto the counter, so it seemed. “Hey, hey, it’s alright, get it all out. Cough it up, babe. That’s it.” He clapped you on the back while you continued to expel all the coppery powder from your airways.

“What—” You spat onto the counter, wiping your nose and turning to look up at Wade. “What was that stuff?”

There was powder all over your face. Wade reached out to wipe it off, peering at it as it glistened on his glove. “Well, hopefully nothing poisonous. Do you feel like you’re dying?”

“No.” You frowned. “Not yet.”

Wade could see the panic in your eyes. “Hey, don’t freak out. Was probably just some…pocket sand.” God, he’d always wanted to use that.

You snorted. “Pocket sand? Really?”

Wade shrugged. He looked over at the muira puama he was still carrying and, out of curiosity, opened the pouch, dumping the contents onto the counter. It was indeed a fine powder, the exact same color as the dust Nightshade had attacked you with. He swallowed. “Y/N.”

“What?” You turned, and he held the pouch out to you so you could read. He watched your eyes widen with realization. “Fuck me.”

“Well, with all that dust you just inhaled, I think I’ll have to. How are you feeling?” He took off one glove and pressed the back of his hand to your forehead.

You had a weird expression on your face that was somewhere between sulking and primal fear. “Normal, I guess. A little warm.”

Wade laughed. “You’re always warm, babe. Anything else? Tingly? Weak? Aroused?”

“I mean, I guess I feel a little shaky.”

“Let’s get you back to the hotel. You can take a nice long bath and maybe, if you ask nicely, I’ll join you.”

“Suck my dick.”

“Oh! Do you think this dust will give you one? I mean it did say ‘organ enhancer’ so maybe—”

“Wade.”

“I’ll call a Lyft.” 

* * *

Either Nightshade was a phony, or her specialty lay only in strength-enhancing drugs, because you had seemed fine during the ride home. Sure, you were shivering now and then, and your knee wouldn’t stop jiggling, but you seemed fine enough, just shaken.

Wade lounged on the couch while you showered, watching _Golden Girls_ reruns. Since you and Wade were working out of town, your client had been kind enough to pay for a weekend stay at a luxury resort for the two of you. The suite was the fanciest he’d ever seen, well furnished, with a balcony, crystal chandelier, elaborate golden drapery, and exotic paintings on the walls, mostly of naked women. There were two beds, at your request and to Wade’s disappointment. He’d looked forward to cuddling with you all weekend. Now that the job was done—sort of—the two of you would head back tomorrow, which meant no more lobster buffet, no more late night soaks in the Jacuzzi, and no more fluffy white robes. He was definitely stealing a couple robes for himself.

He’d changed out of his suit and into a T-shirt and flannel pants. He’d turned down the temperature in the room just so he could comfortably don one of the fluffy white robes, and so now he sat on the champagne-colored crushed velvet sofa, sipping Chardonnay while you showered. He was sure some steam would do you good. He focused on watching Rose and Dorothy read the hell out of Blanche instead of imagining how you might look sans supersuit, skin dewy with steam.

Wade heard you emerge forty-five minutes later, the bathroom door opening and shutting behind him. “Feeling better?” he said without looking, sipping some wine. He swished it around in his glass, eyeing it carefully. “You’ve gotta try their Chardonnay. It’s very…alcoholic.”

You weren’t saying anything, but he could hear you breathing quite heavily. He turned just in time to see you rush into the bedroom, towel streaming behind you. Wade blinked, shrugged, and turned back to the TV, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He was sure you were fine.

About ten minutes later, he heard the bedroom door open and shut. “Alright, clap once if you require medical attention,” said Wade. “Huff twice if you’re feeling just fine. Cough if you need a hands-on examination.”

You didn’t make any of those sounds. If he wasn’t mistaken, you were giggling, except it was one of those high, gasping giggles that he’d only ever heard in black-and-white films. Like you were some damsel in distress.

“Does that giggle mean yes or no to the hands-on examination?”

This time, you walked around the couch. He could see you in his peripherals, standing at the end of the sofa, shifting restlessly from foot to foot.

Wade chuckled and turned to face you. “I’ll take that as a ye—Uh. Hm. Okay.”

You smiled in a way he’d never seen you smile before, at least never at him. It was sickeningly sweet, flirtatious even. “Hi.”

Wade cleared his throat. “Whatcha wearing there, bud?”

Your brows furrowed. “You don’t like it?”

“No, that’s…Heh, that’s not what I meant at all, it’s just…Huh.” Wade was choosing his words carefully, partly because he could feel himself stiffening in every sense of the term, and partly because you were eyeing him like a puma sizing up her prey.

You were almost naked. Almost. Wade had seen you in your underwear plenty of times, but there was a difference between underwear and whatever it was you were wearing. The first thing he noticed, ironically, was his shirt. You were wearing one of his white button-downs, something he’d brought so he could look nice at the lobster buffet, except you’d apparently forgotten how to wear a shirt. The sleeves weren’t on all the way, leaving your shoulders bare. You were wearing a bra, a nice bra, he knew what a nice bra looked like. It was wine-red and lacy, probably a push-up because it was flattering your chest beyond belief. He couldn’t remember your breasts looking so…full, to say the least. Cleavage, he couldn’t remember you having cleavage, or at least he’d tried hard to forget about it. And the underwear, well, it certainly matched. The majority of it was sheer, except for the very center of it, which was lace. He wondered briefly just how much of you it covered from the back, then remembered the current situation and corrected his face.

He cleared his throat again, blinking rapidly. “That’s…my shirt.”

You smiled again, and when your eyes lit up, he saw that something wasn’t right about them. He expected to see your pupils dilated beyond belief, but that…wasn’t the case. “You mind if I wear it? It smells like you, and it’s so soft.” You rubbed the sleeve against your cheek pointedly.

“Ha! Yeah. I bet. What about the rest of your clothes? You burn those?”

You giggled; it was the most unnerving sound he’d ever heard. His fight or flight senses were tingling. “No, silly! I didn’t wanna wear anything else.” You stepped over to him and sat on the couch, facing him with one leg bent underneath you. “I picked these out just for you.” You gestured to your bra, then to your panties. “You like? I figured you’d like red since—”

“It’s my color. Yup. Sure is.” Wade swallowed hard and crossed one leg over the other. He chugged down the rest of his wine and all but tossed the glass back onto the coffee table. He’d done some searching online to research Nightshade’s drug; muira puama was already a powerful aphrodisiac by itself, but considering how Nightshade liked to experiment, and how much of it she’d gotten on you…There was no telling what lengths you would go to in order to get yourself off. “You look like you’re feeling…better.”

You nodded, and he didn’t miss the way you scooted forward, inching along the cushion toward him. “I am. I feel so much better, Wade. It’s like Nightshade’s dust just opened all of my airways. Like, all of them.”

He didn’t like the way your legs opened up when you said “airways.” You scooted forward, and he scooted back. Pretty soon he was going to run out of couch. “Really? Like a decongestant?”

“Yeah, but so much better. I just feel really”—you inched forward—“really”—Wade’s back hit the armrest—“good.”

“That’s great! Had me worried about you for a second there. But since you’re feeling better— _oof!”_

You straddled him, one leg on either side of his thighs. He let himself go limp while you took his hands and placed them on your hips. “Wade, I think I’d like to take you up on that offer.”

Wade gulped, staring up at you anxiously. “What offer?” You were moving his hands up your stomach, up to your chest. He held his breath as you closed his hands over your breasts and squeezed. You were going to be the death of him.

“You said,” you murmured, your voice soft and silken, “that if I asked nicely…” You lowered his hands and brought them behind you to your ass, again squeezing your hands over his. “…You’d join me for a nice, long bath.” You sat down in his lap and rolled your hips forward, and in a cruel twist of fate, your satin-covered softness rubbed up along the chub he was sporting.

Wade groaned and let his head fall back against the couch. He should’ve tied his robe shut when he had the chance. Flannel pants didn’t offer much protection, especially when your pussy was hotter than most. “Y/N, babe, I don’t think you mean that. Nightshade, she—” He hissed when your hand reached down to palm him over his pants. “She drugged you—”

“And it cleared everything up for me, Wade.” You grasped his chin with your free hand, stroking him absently with the other. “I know what I want. _Who_ I want.” You leaned down until your lips were at his ear. “I’ve wanted you for a while now, Wade. All of you.” Then you licked his cheek.

Wade clenched his jaw at that. The idea of you pining after him the way he pined after you seemed too good to be true. He had a feeling you were just ready to hump anything that moved, and he was the most readily available, even if he did look like a moldy piece of chewing gum. He looked up at you with hardened eyes. “Y/N, you’re tripping on some sex dust right now and—Wait, what’s wrong with your eyes?”

“What about them?” you mumbled, taking one of his hands and bringing it to your mouth. He held back a groan when you closed your lips around his thumb and sucked.

He was right; your pupils weren’t dilated, but your irises were glowing a bright and fiery gold, like they did when you were in full flame mode. It was terrifying and sexy all at once. “Y/N, they’re on fire.” He glanced down at your form, then regretted it instantly; he was sure your chest was going to bust out of that bra. “How hot are you right now?”

“Do you even need to ask?” Your tongue slid along his finger. You nibbled at it a bit before he finally snatched his hand back, your teeth snapping shut with a click. “I’m hot all over, baby. All for you.”

“Very funny.” There were no flames yet, but judging by how bright your eyes were, he had a feeling you were hot as hell on the inside, which meant even if he wanted to give in to you, he would most likely get his dick burned off, which was one injury he’d managed to avoid and would like to avoid at all costs. “You know what, I’m tired actually, you know how tired I get after wine, and with that gluten sensitivity, well, who knows how long I have before it blows out both ends. Up you go.” He made to get up, but you shoved him down by the shoulders, pinning him down. “Y/N, I—”

You cut him off with your lips, kissing him fervently. You were holding his face with both hands, moaning as you went back to grinding into his lap. Wade lost himself for a moment, forgot where he was, _who_ he was, because your lips felt like heaven on his and you were so goddamn soft in his hands—

And then he remembered that this was all Nightshade’s doing, and he shoved you away, hard enough that you lost your balance and tumbled to the floor, narrowly avoiding the coffee table on your way down.

Wade scrambled over the back of the couch and assumed a defensive crouch, watching you warily. “Y/N, I’m not doing this,” he told you, watching you scramble to your feet. You took off his shirt, sniffing it deeply before throwing it to some corner of the room. He feared that if he didn’t do something, your bra would be next. “C’mon, even if you did like me it shouldn’t be like this. You’re not yourself right now.”

Now you looked less aroused and more offended. “I _am_ myself, Wade! I feel more alive than I’ve ever felt right now.”

“No, you’re not thinking with a clear head—”

“I’m clearheaded as _fuck_ right now, dipshit! Now get over here!” You leaped up onto the couch, towering over him.

Wade yelped and backed away into the wall while you slid down the back of the couch and stalked toward him. He figured there was no point in running from you; you were faster than him without the stimulant, so running from you now would be useless. He was a lot stronger than you, however, which meant he was going to have to fight dirty.

You pounced, catching Wade off guard, and the two of you fell to the floor. You ended up on top, promptly straddling him and reaching down to pull down his pants. With a yell, Wade sat up and pushed you to the floor, pinning you down this time—except you seemed to be enjoying it, looking a little fearful and aroused all at once. You looked up at him with doe-like eyes, lashes fluttering at him like you’d been practicing in the mirror. Your legs lifted to wrap around his hips.

“If you wanted to top, all you had to do was ask,” you purred.

Wade hopped off of you and backed away, wondering how he was going to get out of this one. You stood, fixing him with that intense, predatory stare again, and at the same time he felt his cock twitch in his pants, he also felt every ounce of his confidence chuck itself out the window. You were too strong. If you had him pinned down, you could have your way with him. If he had you pinned down, you were enjoying yourself too much to be mad about it. Either way, he would end up with a guilty conscience and a charred dick, neither of which he wanted.

He didn’t want his first time with you to be this way. He wanted to make it special, wine and dine you properly, maybe take you out for a movie or a stroll through Central Park. He wanted to see you dolled up for him when you were in your right mind, not when you needed to get the sex pollen out of your system. This wasn’t what he’d wanted in the slightest.

Wade briefly considered fighting you off with the bottle of Chardonnay, but he thought better of it, especially with how flammable alcohol was. He considered locking you in the bedroom, but you would just burn right through the door. There weren’t many other options; he wondered how long it would take for you to sweat out the rest of the drug…

Well. There was one other way.

Wade made a mad dash for the bedroom, hearing you follow at his heels. He dove across his bed at the far end of the room, reached for his weapon bag, and procured one of his katanas.

“Wade, baby, _please,_  I promise I’ll be good—”

He gritted his teeth and threw his katana at you with all his might, sending it off with just the right amount of spin. You turned your head to dodge but were just a tad too slow; the butt of the sword struck your temple, and your eyes rolled back into your head. You collapsed onto your own bed, out cold.

Wade peeked over at you from behind his bed, whispering your name. When you didn’t move, he crept forward, poking you in the leg. You were breathing evenly, but you were definitely unconscious. He sighed with relief, then felt a pang of guilt. He had sworn to himself that he would never hurt you, not after he nearly broke your nose during a sparring match, and now here he was, knocking you out with his katana. It was for your own good, and he was almost sure you would thank him, but he still felt guilty about it.

Wade scooped you up and laid you down on your bed, tucking you under the covers. He watched you, sleeping soundly, chest rising, falling. Finally he leaned over, kissed your cheek, and left the room, hoping you wouldn’t hate him when you woke up.

* * *

You woke up several hours later. He’d watched at least fifteen more episodes of _Golden Girls_ when you emerged from the bedroom. Wade muted the TV and turned to see you looking very disheveled, wearing a fluffy white hotel robe cinched at the waist.

“Hey,” Wade offered weakly, mouth going dry at the sight of you.

You smiled feebly and sat down at the other end of the couch, avoiding his eyes.

“How’re you feeling?” Wade had closed the windows and turned up the thermostat in order to ensure that you sweated out the last of Nightshade’s sex dust. Judging by how sweaty you looked, he figured it had worked.

“Like shit, actually. You?”

“Same here.” He bit down on his lower lip, almost drawing blood. “Y/N, I’m really sorry—”

You whipped around to look at him, eyes wide with confusion. “Wade, if anyone should be sorry it should be _me_. My memory’s a little fuzzy but what I _do_ remember is throwing myself at you like an animal.”

“No, Y/N, you didn’t—Well, you did do all of that and then some and you were wearing my shirt but what I’m talking about is the fact that _I_ _knocked you the fuck out_.”

You cocked your head to the side. “You what?”

“With my sword. I knocked you out ’cause you were trying to have my babies.”

You groaned and leaned forward with your head in your hands. “Wade…”

“No, don’t. It’s not your fault. Nightshade’s drugs were pretty powerful, and I’m irresistible. It only makes sense that you would—”

“God, Wade, I’m so sorry. If you want me to leave, I—”

“What?” It was his turn to act incredulous. “Y/N, I’m not mad at you. I’m mad you decided to make a move when you were high as fuck, but I’m not mad, not really. I could never be mad at you. You’re too cute.” He patted his chest. “Makes my heart go _whoosh_.” He opened his hand, conveying the explosion of fireworks.

That brought a smile to your face. “Is this your way of telling me you love me?”

“Well, I mean, that’s one of the ways. The other way is a lot less embarrassing.”

“Oh, yeah?” You walked along the couch on your knees and sat down right next to him. It was nice to see you smiling at him, but without the creepy sex smile. “What’s that way like?”

Wade cleared his throat. “Well, I always imagined it would be me saying something incredibly charming yet equally seductive, and then you realizing all along that behind this ugly face is an even uglier but very lovable soul, and then we’d—”

“Fuck?”

“Let me finish! I was going to say ‘kiss’ but I mean, if you wanted to—”

You placed your hand on his cheek, inadvertently silencing him. “Wade,” you murmured, your eyes dropping to his lips. “You do know I love you, right?”

He couldn’t find it in him to take your words seriously. “Well, I’m your partner in crime, it makes sense that you feel some kind of brotherly affection for me—”

“No, Wade, I don’t mean that.” You peered up at him with solemn eyes. “You’re not just my partner in crime. You’re my…Well, you’re my Wade. I’m your Y/N.”

Wade blinked. “Well, if you’re really interested, there are a few things you should know. First, you can only refer to me as your slutty buddy or your baby boo. Second, my safe word is—”

You leaned in and kissed him, softly this time. It was so different from your drug-induced kiss, like you were cradling him with your mouth. His brain was short-circuiting as he fought to understand that this was real. You loved him. You _wanted_ him.

“Uh…Wade?”

He blinked and realized he’d frozen against your lips. You were peering up at him with concern. He shook his head wildly to clear his thoughts, then looked over at you with soft eyes. “You really mean that? You love me?”

You smiled. “Yes.”

“All of me? Not just my body or my face but my heart?”

“Yes, Wade.”

“Even my ass? And my killer legs?”

“Yes, baby, I love all of you.” You leaned over and kissed his nose. “You’re just so cute.”

Wade sighed, sinking back into the couch with a dopey smile on his face. He held out his arm, and you promptly snuggled up to him, allowing him to wrap his arm around you. “I could get used to this shit. This cuddly couple shit. What about you?”

You hummed in approval. “Why don’t we call our client and see if he can pay for a couple more nights at this hotel, hm? We have a lot of catching up to do.” You snickered. “I gotta see if you were telling the truth about being hung like a moose.”

“Oh, I ain’t lying, baby.” Wade leaned over to whisper into your ear, “It’s like a third leg.”

You turned to him with gleaming eyes. “Prove it.”

Wade arched a nonexistent eyebrow. “Bed or couch?”

“Por qué no los dos?”

“Well, let’s get to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading & please let me know what you think!


End file.
